Civil Love
by Kamikaze Butterfly
Summary: The Criminal Affairs Department ain't seen nothin' like this before. DickxOC. Completed 8/12/2008.


The Criminal Affairs Department was eerily silent, at least to the stern, Japanese woman whose thin arms were folded across her chest as her dark eyes watched her coworker. She knew her stare was tying a knot in his gut, but for one reason or another, she enjoyed watching him mentally squirm. While her behavior said one thing, however, her heart said another entirely. They had met two years prior, when she became a homicide detective herself, and as her outer hatred for him grew, so did her harbored affections.

She didn't noticed her eyes had slid closed until his gruff tone met her ear. "M-Miss Ito?"

Keeping collected despite the shock to her heart, she lifted her head and quickly glanced at the clock. According to it, it was merely minutes to three in the morning. "Yes, Scruffball?" came her voice, along with the humiliating nickname she had given him so long ago.

"Do you wanna go home?"

Rage of larger proportions than usual built inside of her. "Home? Home!? We have to finish this!!"

"But you look so tired," he said, scratching the back of his head. "I can finish this myself, Pal."

She glared at him through her black-rimmed glasses.

"I mean, uh, Miss Ito."

"I know you're going to need my help and call me the second I get home, so why should I leave in the first place?"

"I can always get someone else to help me out later if I have to, Pa-" It was a good thing he caught himself.

"It's fine," she grumbled. "I'll just stay."

"You sure?" he whimpered.

"Of course I'm sure. I wouldn't have said so if I wasn't. Though I wish it wasn't so damn cold in here." She tugged on the sleeves of her orange turtleneck absentmindedly.

He was quiet for a moment as he scribbled something down on one of the several pieces of paper before him. Then, he had the nerve to speak again. "Do you want my jacket?"

The woman's eyes expanded as he stood and slowly began to slip out of his jungle-green trench coat. "N-no, please, i-it's fine. I d-don't want your grubby j-jacket on me a-anyway!" But even as she stammered her complaints, he continued to remove the article of clothing.

And before she knew it, warmth sweeter than no other caressed her, thawing her heart, and a rugged smell met her small nose. She had secretly dreamed of wearing his trademark trench coat. Her body relaxed on contact, her shoulders drooping, and a faint sigh escaped her.

Miss Ito heard the previous wearer of the jacket sigh. "Why do you always do that?"

She didn't look up. She was too engrossed in taking deep whiffs of the other's pleasant scent.

Shortly after the silence, he tried again. "Miss Ito? Miss Ito-!"

A sleepy smirk crossed her lips as she wrapped her thin fingers around his thick wrist. "Come," she said gently. "Sit with me."

The blush she saw on his face was priceless, but she barely noticed her own cheeks burn as he plopped down beside her. "A-are you okay, Miss Ito?" he asked, obviously baffled.

"Please, call me Masaki," was her gentle reply as her fingers intertwined with his.

His eyebrows shot up. "R-really? You mean it, Miss Ito-um, Masaki?"

She nodded slowly, not necessarily realizing what was going on. Between her physical exhaustion and the hypnotic heat of his jacket, her brain was malfunctioning. No one in the Department would believe it if they saw the brooding Miss Ito holding hands with the lumbering Dick Gumshoe.

A fingertip slid across the man's chest, and a giggle sounded when he shivered slightly. "Oh, Dick," she purred, continuing to skim his camel-colored shirt lazily. "You look so strong."

"I-I do?" he asked timidly.

Normally she would have considered his question obtuse, but in her current state of being, she found it quite charming. "Of course you do. I mean, look at you. So buff." The hand on his shirt glided to his arm, which she lightly squeezed.

"Masaki. W-why are you acting so weird?"

His head was beginning to turn away when her hand cupped his jaw, and he froze. "Oh no, you don't." The Japanese woman laughed brightly as she replaced his gaze with surprisingly little effort. Thumb brushed across his cheek slightly as she spoke. "I've been waiting for this moment for so long. There's no way you're running from me."

And in what seemed like an instant, their lips were locked.

She smirked inwardly as she felt him give into the kiss without hesitation, and a sweet sound escaped her as he returned it. Despite his alarming size, his kiss was so tender it made the woman shiver. Her hand rested on his back, which she rubbed affectionately, but when she felt his giant palm rest against her chest, she released the kiss with a soft gasp.

"M-Masaki?" he asked fearfully, rapidly retracting his hand. "D-did I do something wrong? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

She shushed him by bringing a trembling finger to his lips. "You didn't do anything wrong, Dick. On the contrary. It felt incredible." She was silent as she lifted one of his hands and replaced it on her left breast, which coaxed a sigh to pass through her lips. "Please," she murmured silently, angular eyes half-closed and watching him warmly.

Face flushed, he nodded as his giant paw began to work her small breast. A moan sounded from the woman, who clung to the other tightly. "Oh, Dick," she sighed, breathing gradually becoming heavy.

"Masaki," his voice rumbled in her ear, his thumb brushing across a sensitive spot, and he received a satisfied sound in reply.

Unable to take the tugging feeling inside of her any longer, the woman captured the other's lips deftly, moaning in between short but sweet kisses. "Dick," she repeated compassionately before letting a second phrase slip from her lips.

"I love you."

Much to her dismay, the male pulled away, blushing something fierce. "T-this isn't right, M-Miss Ito."

"N-no, Dick," she replied, distraught that he felt the need to address her by her work moniker. "I-it's perfectly fine-"

"It's not fine!" he shouted. "W-we're coworkers! We can't let romance get in the way of out jobs, Pal!!"

Either she hadn't noticed the ending of his sentence, or she was too flustered to mind it. She grabbed his tie and tugged on it nervously, almost pleadingly. A whisper delicate like fine china played across his ear.

"I need you, Dick."

As he loosened the thing around his neck, he spoke again, voice low. "I have to go. Those instant breakfasts don't cook themselves, you know."

The woman's jaw dropped to the floor as the tie fell limp in her hands. "B-but-"

And then he removed his coat from her thin shoulders, and Miss Ito snapped back into place.

"You know what?" she growled. "Fine. Go." A sudden blush crossed her face. "B-but if anyone, and I mean anyone, hears about this, I'll hunt you down, Scruffball!!"

A content smirk curled on his lips. "I know, Miss Ito." A dark chuckle escaped him as he replaced his jacket before heading toward the elevators. The Japanese woman followed.

"No, I mean it!!" she cried before tossing the cloth in his direction. "Take your stupid tie and get the hell out of here! I don't ever want to see you again!!"

Despite her wobbly throw, he caught it. "I know, Miss Ito," he repeated as he pressed the down button on the elevator control pad.

"I hate you," she spat just as the doors slid open and he stepped inside. She carefully crossed her arms over her chest and huffed crossly. As they closed, however, she heard a phrase that made her face turn crimson.

"I love you too, Masaki."


End file.
